


A New Day Yesterday

by Thesseli



Series: Prodigies [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Crossover, Earth-Warders, M/M, Memory Alteration, Post-Episode: s01e06 The Very Last Day of the Rest of Their Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22480537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesseli/pseuds/Thesseli
Summary: “You asked if we’d met before Eden, or if we’d known each other before the war,” said the angel, his brow furrowed.  “The odd thing is...I can’t seem to remember either.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Prodigies [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606876
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61





	A New Day Yesterday

The demon who called himself Crowley sighed in contentment. He and his angel had made love once again, something they’d enjoyed many times over since the end of the world never happened. And now they were holding each other, Aziraphale’s fingers tracing lazily over his skin -- no longer bound by Heaven or Hell, no more rules, and no more fear of what might happen if their respective sides ever found out about their arrangement, or their friendship.

No need to hide their true feelings from each other…or from themselves. 

It had nearly taken the end of the world for Aziraphale to acknowledge what Crowley had admitted to himself many long years ago. That they were on their own side, the side of the Earth and all its inhabitants, and that the bond between them was much more than simple friendship. But once the angel had accepted the truth of this, the undeniable truth of what had developed between them over the years, their relationship had blossomed into something neither could ever again live without.

And Crowley was fine, absolutely fine, with that. A human might have called it heavenly; Crowley preferred to call it ‘perfect’. Because Heaven was just as imperfect as Hell, and the closest he’d ever gotten to perfection was his life here with Aziraphale.

“I love you, Crowley,” the angel murmured. “I have for a very long time now. I just couldn’t see it for what it was.” 

“I love you too, angel,” Crowley replied warmly. “I’ve loved you for ages. Feels like almost forever.”

“I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to realize,” Aziraphale sighed ruefully. Sometimes he would turn melancholy in the afterglow, mourning for all those moments they could have had. “For centuries I wouldn’t even let myself call what we had a friendship. It was always ‘the arrangement’. That all changed after the Bastille. I’m rather ashamed of myself, looking back on it now.”

Crowley leaned forward and kissed him. He’d never been able to resist Aziraphale; anything the principality had ever wanted or needed he would give, and right now his angel needed reassurance. “That’s all right. That was self-preservation in action. You know what would have happened if Heaven ever found out about us, so don’t be sad.” 

“It was during World War II, in the church, when I finally realized I loved you. I still couldn’t say it out loud, or even let myself think about it consciously,” he confessed. “But I want you to know that I’ve always felt comfortable with you, throughout all our history together. Even back in the Garden. I never had any urge to hurt you, or fear you, even though you were a demon.”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to be apologetic. “I was wary, when I first saw you. I expected you to smite me.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Yet you still came up to talk to me. And you moved closer to me once the rain began, even before I’d lifted my wing to shelter you. That was very brave. What made you decide to do it?”

“I don’t know; I just wanted to,” he replied with a shrug. “And after you told me you’d given your flaming sword to the humans, well...I decided you were someone worth knowing.”

The principality’s fingertips caressed his skin once more. “Yet you approached me even before you were aware of what I’d done.”

“And you didn’t attack me when I did.” Now that he thought back on it, though, it was strange, especially for an angel who’d been charged with protecting the Garden. “You said you were always comfortable around me. Why do you suppose that is?”

“I don’t know, really,” mused Aziraphale. “To be honest, I should have felt the exact opposite way.”

The demon nodded. “Just like I shouldn’t have wanted to get anywhere near you. But I couldn’t help myself.”

Aziraphale gazed at the demon curiously. “You said you’ve loved me for what feels like forever...” His voice trailed off. 

Crowley blinked...and then his jaw dropped at the implication both of them now recognized. “Aziraphale,” he asked, eyes wide. “Had we actually met before the Garden? Did we know each other before the war?” Sitting upright, he grasped his partner’s hands. “Demons lose most of our memories, burned out when we Fall. We don’t remember much from before then, but you would never have gone through that, and--” Crowley was about to go on, but the look on Aziraphale’s face made him pause. “What’s wrong, angel?”

“You asked if we’d met before Eden, or if we’d known each other before the war,” the angel said slowly, his brow furrowed. “The odd thing is...I can’t seem to remember either.”

Crowley was surprised. “What?”

“I remember the war, I remember fighting in it, but…no faces.” The angel shook his head. “Nothing’s clear. Nothing from that period of time.”

“Just blurred visions, and gaps in your memory?” Crowley asked, speaking from his own experience. “Because that’s what it’s like for me, and the other demons. Angels have that too?”

Aziraphale’s frown deepened. “Yes…why haven’t I noticed this until now? That chunks of my past are just…gone?” he demanded, sounding almost indignant. “Miracled or magicked away?”

Crowley stared at him. This changed everything. The denizens of Hell had just assumed memory loss went along with Falling, but if the same thing had happened to the angels as well…

“Why make us forget? Why make us lose time, demons and angels both?”

Aziraphale was silent for a few moments. “Crowley,” he began hesitantly, as if he was afraid of his lover’s response. “What was your name before you Fell?”

Crowley cocked his head. “You’ve never asked me that before.”

The angel’s expression softened. “I thought it might be rude, had I done so, and I didn’t want to hurt you,” he replied. “But now, I would very much like to know. What was your name before you Fell?”

The demon opened his mouth to answer…and then shut it tight. His mind had gone completely blank. “I don’t remember,” he whispered in shock. In all the years since his Fall, he’d never once thought about the name he’d been given by the Almighty. Now that he was trying to, though, it seemed that he couldn’t. Had it been deliberately hidden from him, locked away from his conscious mind? He couldn’t keep the hint of alarm from his voice when he spoke again. “How can I not remember?”

Aziraphale’s expression was grave. “I don’t know. And I don’t know why I can only recall generalities and not specifics from the war.”

Crowley’s jaw set. “You have books on all kinds of things, there must be something in here that can help, help us both.” He was determined to get to the bottom of this. There was no way he was letting this go, not if there was the chance he had known his angel in the time before the Garden.

Hours later, they had to admit defeat. Aziraphale knew his bookshop like the back of his hand, and Crowley was nearly as familiar with it as well. But there was nothing, absolutely nothing of use here, no magic tomes or treatises on the mechanics of Heaven or Hell that could explain why both angel and demon would have gaps in their memories.

“If I had something like that here, we would have found it by now. I could tell you the exact shelf and position such a manuscript would occupy. But I have nothing.” The angel began to pace. “We’ll need to look elsewhere, I’m afraid.”

Crowley frowned. Now that he was aware of the problem with both himself and his beloved angel, they needed to solve it. The knowledge that his own past was a mystery disturbed him greatly. “I don’t like not knowing.”

“I don’t like not knowing either.” Aziraphale’s brow furrowed. “If nothing here can help us, then we’ll need to find something – or more likely, someone – experienced in matters of the occult and the supernatural.”

“Someone who understands what we are, and won’t run screaming into the void because of it,” said Crowley. He smiled knowingly. “Someone experienced in magic.”

Aziraphale nodded, taking Crowley’s hand and squeezing it. “We need to talk to Anathema.”

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a bit before the first entry in this series, 'No Such Thing'.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R9JF7lUMH1U -- "My luck should be so bad now, to turn out this way."


End file.
